


The Caddy

by Anonymous



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Fellatio, Flirting, Golf, M/M, implied sex, macking, minor exhibitionism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-07
Updated: 2018-10-07
Packaged: 2019-07-27 12:54:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16219466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: At the end of the 2017-2018 season, with the Leafs out of the playoffs and the Islanders not even making it, amid trade rumors and free agency, Auston invites John Tavares for a round of golf at his favorite course. His hockey courting is underlined with a lit bit of real courting as JT finds out the real reason Auston loves this particular course so much.





	The Caddy

**Author's Note:**

> If you or someone you know is listed in this fic, please save us both the embarrassment of not reading this. Thanks ;-P
> 
>  
> 
> Lots of handwaving about golf and also pre-pro hockey and also Toronto as a place. Are post graduates signed as UFAs? I think so? Does the U of T have an ECAC hockey team, probably not, but who cares! You're here to read to about flirty hockey dudes.

John’s first personal introduction to Auston Matthews is a phone call early in the summer. The professional kind, awkward and stilted but with an underlying passion for hockey.

The second is a text.

Auston Matthews  
12:32 PM  
Hey, it’s Auston Matthews. Heard you were in town. would you be interested in a round of golf tomorrow if you’re not busy? I know a great place :-)

Me  
01:02 PM  
Sure, how does after lunch sound? I’ll meet you there.

Auston Matthews  
01:05 PM  
Great! I’ll text you the address. Ur in for a treat ;-)

~~~

And that’s how John is pulling up in his silver mercedes benz to a Scandinavian looking country club north of downtown. The place looks posh and stodgy and somehow it doesn’t surprise him that Auston Matthews golfs here. Perhaps it’s to get some privacy from the public, or maybe it’s to show off his wealth and popularity? He doesn’t know how that makes him feel about the star of one of the teams courting him in the off season.

A black Porsche pulls up a few spots over in the nearly empty parking lot. It’s still a little early in the season and a little nippier than most folks like to golf in. But John is happy to be outdoors nonetheless and is thankful Mr. Matthews has arrived in the less ostentatious of his Porsches. 

The young man himself steps out clad in a beanie and jean capris. He looks bundled up and tired in a characteristic way for the man. He gives his lopsided smile and reaches out for a shake. 

“Hey man, glad you made it!” Auston says.

“Yeah of course, thanks for inviting me. I was just in town visiting my parents.” John says. He was technically here for contract talks with the Leafs, but he couldn’t let on to any of that just yet.

“Kinda figured. Have you ever been here before? I know it looks a little ritzy but you’ll understand why I love this place shortly,” Auston says leading them inside, giving him a sly smile. He can’t decide if that’s just Auston’s face or if he’s trying to be mischievous. Either way, what’s the most they can get up to playing golf anyway?

John nods and answers Auston’s questions about his season and asks in turn although they’ve both seen plenty of media coverage of each other.

Inside the large stone facade is a warm castle-esque foyer area with faux wall torches and stone detailing. Past the lush red velvet sofas and mahogany end tables that looked to have never been used but carry no sign of dust, is a reception desk discreetly labeled for golfing. 

Auston rings the bell on the counter and a few moments later an older gentleman comes out to greet them. 

“Mr. Matthews, how good to see you again!” the receptionist says.

“And you as well Mr. Bondwell, I believe I have an appointment reserved with Mr. Marner as our caddy?” Auston says leaning on the desk.

“Yes, let me double check the schedule,” Mr. Bondwell says.

He scans over the document hidden by the high desk. Auston peeks over it, double checking. 

“Ah yes, here he is. Should have just gotten on his shift. Let me call him.” Mr. Bondwell picks up the phone at the dials the back room. He says a few words and from behind a stone pillar a man Auston’s age practically comes sprinting out. 

“Aus!” he almost shouts. He launches himself into a hug with the taller boy. 

“Mitchy, so good to see you,” Auston says, hugging Mitch back. Mr. Bondwell gives a slightly disapproving look at the unprofessional behavior of one of his employees but let’s it go since Auston doesn’t seem the slightest bit concerned.

Mitch pulls away away smiling a big toothy grin that is equal parts dorky and charming. When he opens his eyes, however, he spots John standing there watching them. His eyes go big and he freezes as he’s pulling away.

“Oh my god, John Tavares.” Mitch says as a statement. He looks a little starstruck as he reaches out to shake John’s hand. 

“That would me be me,” he replies. Mitch grins at him, a grin that radiates humor and warmth. The young man leans in and with a conspiratorial whisper asks,”I know Matts isn’t supposed to ask questions like this but are you gonna be a Toronto Maple Leaf?”

John chuckles. “I’m still shopping around, but yes I am looking at Toronto.”

Mitch gives Auston a meaningful look and finally releases his hand. 

“Well gentleman, let’s get out on the green shall we?” Mitch says. 

~~~

Mitch leads them out to a walk way and asks for their putting preferences and disappears for a few minutes. He returns in a golf cart with a black travel bag strapped to the back. He stands on the side has he pulls up and hops off motioning for them to hop in. 

Auston takes the wheel and Mitch stands along the back. John figures Mitch would probably be giving directions but Auston seems to know his way around well enough. 

When John looks around, taking in the course and beautiful scenery he gets an eye full of the taut thighs in khakis standing behind Auston. His torso is solid too he notices and the forearms that grip the canopy of the cart are thick and wiry as well. More than a golfer, Mitch looks like an athlete as well, and a particularly fit one at that. 

“So Mitchell, what sports do you play?” He asks over the whir of the cart. 

“Please, call me Mitch,” he replies bending down to look under the canopy. Laughing he says “Hockey actually. ECAC currently but hopefully I scan squeeze into an OHL or AHL contract.” Mitch says, looking ahead.

Auston scoffs.

“Like you aren’t going to be making the lineup out of training camp. Please Mitch. They know you can play and they aren’t going to waste you in the AHL or OHL when you could be a great asset to the Leafs.” Auston says looking into the rearview mirror to make eye contact.

Mitch looks away shyly. “Well we’ll see. I’m largely untested in professional hockey at any level.” 

“You play with Mo and I and the guys all the time?” Auston says.

“That doesn’t count. That’s not a real game. You guys sure are a bunch of competitive assholes but it’s not a competition either,” Mitch says snarkily back smacking the driver on the back.

“Whatever dude, you’ll be playing on me or JT’s line this year, I can guarantee it.” Auston points a thumb John’s way. John raises an eyebrow at the implication that he’ll be a Leaf come fall, but says nothing otherwise. 

“Oh? I didn’t realize you were GM now too? Wow, what can’t you do Auston Matthews?” Mitch is rolling his eyes as Auston laughs in response. 

There’s an easy comradery between the guys as John has observed and he doesn’t know anything of Mitch’s on ice play but he seems to have the interpersonal relationship part down. That’s something John could work on himself, if he’s being honest. 

He watches, discreetly as he can, Mitch’s thighs in his tight khakis, tensing and contracting as he they hit small bumps and dips in the course. Apparently the course is a long strip that starts at the end of the property and works its way back to lodge. 

Auston expertly whips them around to the first tee point and Mitch jumps off and rummages in the golf bag. He pulls out tees and the drivers Auston and John had requested. 

“Guests first, please,” Auston says motioning John ahead of him. Mitch steps up with a hand on his upper arm and explains the layout of the course and the rules. John’s heard these sort of spiels before, pretty standard, but Mitch is standing very close to him and almost short enough that he can see the top of his head. He smells like old spice and country club.

He tees up and lets one rip down the green. He lands on the main green which is a plus. There’s not a lot of golf on the Island, so he’s a little rusty. 

Auston steps up and shoots it easily within fifteen meters of the little yellow flag in the distance. 

“Nice,” Mitch says giving Auston a fist bump. They load back up and Mitch drives them a couple hundred meters up the course, Auston hanging on to the back.

Mitch has conveniently brought beers in a little cooler on the back and they relax and drink and make their way up the course during the warmest part of an otherwise cool day.

At around the twelfth hole John asks, “So you’re in school then right, Mitch?”

“Yep, I go to U of T for sports management,” Mitch says.

“Why’d you go the college route if you don’t mind me asking?” John says. He’s curious as to why someone Auston Matthews deems good enough to make the first line in one of the most competitive hockey markets is going to school rather than getting drafted and doing his time in the minors.

Mitch shrugs. “Parents wanted me to get a degree. I’m on the smaller side for a pro hockey player so I guess they wanted me to have a back up if I got hurt,” he says. His face is pensive, or at least more neutral compared to his smiling goofy face from earlier.

“Any guy can get hurt just as bad regardless of size, you should be playing pro hockey already,” Auston argues. Mitch rolls his eyes and huffs. Obviously an argument they’ve had before.

“Just gotta finish this summer semester and I can graduate early and hopefully sign with the Marlies as a free agent,” Mitch sighs like he doesn’t believe that’ll happen.

“Dude, I know some front office scouts have been to your games. It’s a matter of time before they scout you dude. You’ll be at training camp I guarantee it,” Auston says. He has a serious glint to his eyes as he peers over at Marner. Mitch shys away from his attention, looking down at his shoes and fiddles with the putter in his hands. 

When he regains himself he looks back up, a smirk on his lips. “Hmm, training camp starts in late August right? I’ll have to check my schedule. I’m pretty busy graduating after all,” he chuckles as Auston rolls his eyes.

“Okay smarty pants, your turn. Take a few shifts for me,” Auston winks at him, tilting the driver to hand it to Mitch. 

Mitch inhales and an electric moment passes between them as Mitch grasps the golf club sliding his hand briefly up the shaft before catching on the handle. John looks away, embarrassed by their seemingly intimate moment that he felt he wasn’t supposed to see. 

While he looked away Mitch is squaring up at hole fourteen. He looks over his shoulder and winks at John. “Don’t worry, I’ll sub for you next hole.”

John feels himself warm at Mitch’s flirtatious smirk and innuendo. He can’t tell if it’s the late afternoon warmth, the beers, the embarrassment, or latent lust that heats his chest and causes him to look away.

Auston’s giving him a subtle smirk at him as looks back up to catch Mitch mid swing. His entire torso and arms and thighs activate and they’re easy to see in the sporty professional wear he’s in. The ball lands less than ten meters from the hole and Mitch does a little fist pump. He must have a hell of a shot on the ice too.

“Nice one Mitchy,” Auston says before giving a solid smack on his ass. He yelps and levels a glare and a smirk at Auston. He’s rubbing the offended cheek over his tight tan pants and John can’t look away. Both men catch him as he’s looking up. They have the same devious smirk on their lips and god he should have known something was up.

They let the heated moment pass before Mitch jovially directs them to the next hole. 

Now that the gig is apparently up, Mitch has become considerably more touchy feely and flirtatious. He stands closer to John while Auston drives another one thirty some odd meters from the hole and John can’t help but feel the warmth of the body next to him. It seems like Mitch runs a little hot. 

“Okay my turn!” Mitch says patting him on the back. “You’re almost twenty points down so I’m gonna help you catch up and just maybe you’ll squeak through with a win,” he says to John. He smiles easily over his shoulder as he lines up to putt.

Mitch manages to get it straight into the hole and gives a little whoop and holds his hand up for a high five. John easily acquiesces, smiling, and Mitch reaches around to give him a little side hug/pat like a hockey celly. He’s looking up at him with those warm blue eyes that crinkle at the ends and John wants to lean his face into him. So he does. It’s so much like hockey that he momentarily forgets where he is. 

When they part, Mitch pats him on the chest and lightly jogs over to the hole. Auston is fiddling with the bag and evaluating different clubs. He still gives a side eyed smirk when he thinks John isn’t look though. 

Mitch bends down to retrieve the ball from the hole and slowly and cheekily pulls back up, he wouldn’t call it sexy per se but he does look good bent over. Auston dog whistles next to him and Mitch laughs. 

Mitch jogs back and Auston takes him in his arms, hands on his lower back. He whispers something in Mitch’s ear and Mitch nods.

He’s smiling when he turns to John. “Let’s wrap this game up and relax in the lounge for a bit, yeah?” Mitch says. 

In the end John only ends up five points behind Auston with Mitch’s help. He settles them in a private lounge area with large windows overlooking the course. There’s a large television which Auston flips to a sports channel. They’re playing pregame stuff for game two between the Capitals and Golden Knights. They’re currently comparing corsi between the caps and knights second and third line pairings. Thoroughly distracting stuff.

Mitch had taken their cart to be put away after directing them to the room and returns with a knock on the door. He lets himself in and disappears down the hall. Auston gets up to visit the restroom while John lets himself be lulled by hockey talk and stats and polls. 

It’s almost ten minutes before he realizes Auston has been gone awhile. A light thump on the other side of the wall tips him off that he’s been zoning out. He waits another few minutes not terribly worried about what might be taking the young man so long until he hears the sound of voices, quiet. 

He can’t make anything out but he starts hearing what sounds like gasps. 

There’s a moan and a light thump, all very quiet. John turns the volume down on the TV and concentrates on listening.

As if hearing the volume lower on the TV, the two get more bold. He realizes with a start that they are definitely fucking in the bathroom adjacent to the lounge. The thought sends a shot down to his dick and he feels it stir in interest. 

He hears quite clear an “Ahh, Auston” from Mitch followed by a fleshy smack.

Quieter he hear Matthews reply “Just like that Mitchy.” He’s panting.

There’s considerable thumping now, what sounds like hips against cabinets. With the volume so low, John can make out Mitch’s heavy breathy moans. He rubs his sweating hands on his thighs and paces to the other side of the room. 

“Ahhh...yes, so good for me Mitchy,” he rumbles while Mitch lets out a low whine. “You gonna invite Johnny in here after me? Gonna be good for him too?” 

“Y-yes, yes,” Mitch pants. 

John is chubbing for real now. He gives himself a squeeze over his slacks, embarrassed and looks to the heavens to will it away.

For a solid minute they thump away on the other side of the wall moaning each others names until he can hear Mitch’s distinct whine as he comes. The thumping stops and a while later the water runs. 

He can hear giggling now and Mitch appears at the end of the hallway.

He looks a mess, hair disheveled and shirt sloppily tucked. He cheeks are flushed and levels as John with a lidded look. 

“So... I offer an extra special Marner bonus package with my services if you’re interested.” His lips are red and kissed and god John would love to put something between them. 

Mitch has him pinned from across the room and strides confidant and sated towards him. His steps are languid and he drags a lazy palm up his chest when he reaches him.

He fixes him with a patient look from beneath his short but plentiful eyelashes and god how can he resist. He nods his head in agreement and Mitch takes him by the wrist and drags him to the bathroom.

He notices Auston sitting at the couch now turning the volume back up on the TV. He catches the man’s smirk just as he rounds the corner. 

Mitch brings him inside the large warmly lit bathroom. It looks more like a personal bathroom with its double vanity and tiled shower than a commercial one but he loses the plot in observing his surroundings as Mitch backs him into the counter. 

Slowly, giving him room to decide, Mitch turns his face up into Johns and meets his lips. His whole body is on him now, flushed and warm. John naturally holds him by the hips while Mitch explores his mouth. He’s a good kisser, wrapping his hands around his neck and pulling John into him. He kisses fervently and deeply and pushes into John. For having obviously just come he’s surprisingly still horny. He pulls away, lips even more plush and overworked than before.

“What do you want?” He says low looking up at him. His lids are drooped but his eyes are sharp and focused. 

John considers it for a moment and his eyes are drawn to Mitch’s lips once again.

“I want you to suck me,” he says finally. Mitch grins and nods and drops to his knees.

He makes short work of his belt and slacks and is pumping the older man in his hands and licking a stripe up his shaft before he can think. 

Mitch wraps his lips around John’s dick with practised ease and takes him down easily. He has a hand on John’s thigh steadying himself. John places a hand in Mitch’s fluffy hair and applies pressure. He lets out a long low moan.

Mitch gives a small gag and pulls back a bit looking up him. A sight to behold, his red mouth pulled tight over his dick, nose brushing with his hair and blue eyes boring holes into him from below. 

“Sorry,” he says loosening his grip. Mitch shakes his head and “uh uhs” with his cock still in his mouth. He takes him to the hilt again and makes a sloppy slurping noise. John lets his head fall back and feels himself pulse in Mitch’s mouth. His hand tightens in his hair again and Mitch makes insistent hums and little gagging noises on purpose. He sounds like he could be happy sucking dick every day for the rest of his life. 

His eyes are closed and expression drawn as he concentrates. 

John can feel himself getting closer and grips the countertop, hips moving of their own free will into Mitch’s mouth. Mitch reaches up to give his balls a squeeze and strokes along the base as well. 

That does it for John. He feels himself tense onto his toes and his vision white out, head thrown back as he silently moans coming down Mitch’s throat. He doesn’t get a word of warning out but Mitch stays on him sucking hard on the head until he finishes. 

He sucks off with a pop and looks up at John, pleased. Licking his lips he tucks John back into his pants. Standing slowly, he lets the life come back into his limbs before he’s leaning into John again. 

John’s never let someone kiss them after giving head but he can’t say no to Mitch. The man kisses him deeply and he can taste the spunk on his breath. With the way Mitch kisses though, he hardly minds. 

“Wait outside for me while I clean up, ‘kay?” Mitch says, voice wrecked. His face is flushed to his neck now and lips look absolutely wrecked. 

He runs cold water as John leaves. 

 

Auston’s watching the pregame reporting with the volume set around medium. He raises an eyebrow as John returns and John looks away embarrassed. 

“Understand why this is my favorite place to golf?” he says smirking.

“Yeah, I think I get it,” John says, risking a smirk back.

~~~

On June 30th, after weeks of negotiation, he texts Matthews again. 

Me  
11:02 PM  
Hey, just wanted to let you know I’ve officially signed and will be making an announcement tomorrow.

Auston Matthews  
11:05 PM  
:O Awesome! Welcome aboard. Can’t wait to play with you :)

Auston Matthews  
11:08 PM  
Do you mind if I tell Mitch?

Me  
11:10 PM  
Only if he can be discreet until tomorrow.

Auston Matthews  
11:11 PM  
Cool, I don’t think it’ll be a problem

UNKNOWN NUMBER  
11:30 PM  
I look forward to playing with you Mr. Tavares. ;^)

~~~

It’s finally training camp and John has been busy doing promo work in the new blue jersey with his name and a giant 91 stitched onto it like he had always dreamed. 

He rolls out onto the ice with a couple dozen other guys in blue. 

One rolls right up to him along the boards and stops short of hip checking him. Underneath the leafs blue helmet is a familiar face.

Mitch’s toothy grin sends a thrill up his spine and settles his nerves meeting his new teammates. 

He pats Mitch on the hand and gives him a wiggle.

“You playing on my wing?” John asks.

“I sure hope so,” Mitch says. He’s got a fire in his eyes and he looks focused as he surveys the ice. 

Auston rolls up to pat him on the shin guards.

“Glad you both made it,” he says. 

~~~

It’s a preseason game and he scores his first goal as Toronto Maple Leaf off of Mitch’s pass. 

They meet in the corner as Mitch tucks himself into his arms. He looks down on his smiling face and knocks there buckets together. Mitch is smiling and tucks his face into him in a hug.

Yeah, he’s gonna be in Toronto for a long time.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! <3


End file.
